


Wish you could have stayed a bit longer to see this

by citrusfrogs



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: M/M, au where Soren raised Priam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 13:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14021298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfrogs/pseuds/citrusfrogs
Summary: Years on a journey with an old friend becomes a bitter memory to Soren. A bittersweet memory that always brings back the smell of vanilla and fresh fruits.





	Wish you could have stayed a bit longer to see this

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Soren out living Ike. I enjoyed writing this a lot and would like to thank Falcon, once again being my amazing beta reader and helping me through the process. A lot of scenes got juicer thanks to her.

Years on a journey with an old friend becomes a bitter memory to Soren. A bittersweet memory that always brings back the smell of vanilla and fresh fruits. 

 

Soren and Ike settled down at a small town once Ike got too sick to continue on. Of course, Soren stayed with him. He would bring down gods, he would die, live, and love this man to the end of time. He would do anything, and to stay by his side as his final moments came, so be it. He would hold his hands and whisper to the old man of his great feats of the past.  

 

As Ike’s health continued to decline, Soren would stay longer, he would refuse to even go out to eat. He wouldn’t leave Ike’s bedside, too scared if he left, he would come back to a corpse. Some days, he considered simply giving Ike his peace, to cease the slow agonizing await of death the two of them knew was coming.

 

Some days, Ike would beg Soren to eat, to bathe, to sleep, to stop worrying about him so much. Some days, he would comply, most days, he couldn’t even sleep without crying. Even then, sleep did not plague him. The fear, the fear ate at him until then.

 

“Soren, I want you to promise me.” The old man takes a shaky breath, Soren can’t bear to even tighten his grip on the other’s hand. He asks Soren to return Ragnell, to visit his family (forgive and forget, what a request), to look after his sister. He hesitates, he truly does. He tolds himself he’d do anything for this man, but to what degree, is something he never asked himself. “When I die, I don’t want you to follow me. Live on, until you die old and happy. Please promise me that.”

 

Soren feels like he’d been punched, all the air knocked out of him. His hands shakes, he looks at Ike warily. He almost says no.    
  
“Oh.”   
  
“Don’t take me as a fool Soren, I know you wouldn’t hesitate to do something foolish like that. I want you to be able to–” 

 

Ike throws a fit of coughs, before continuing. “I want you to be able to live, live a full life, be able to see what the world has to offer for you. I don’t want you to end your life on a spiteful note with your family, or have regrets in life.”    
  
“Oh.” He repeats himself, he can’t breath. He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe? His lungs won’t expand, they won’t take in any oxygen. He feels so helpless, lost, why, how did he know. “I, I will, I will live on for you Ike–”   
  
Ike laughs, smiling slightly. It breaks Soren’s heart seeing him like this. “No, don’t live for a dead man, live for yourself Soren.”    
  
The next few days were quiet, but comforting. The acceptance of death hanged comfortably in the air.  

 

When Ike’s last breath was taken, Soren buried him in a plain of flowers just outside the town. He inscribed words onto Ike’s gravestone and marked his map. He mourned, mourned for days, weeks, and months. Even when he finally decided to fulfill Ike’s request to return Ragnell to the Empress, and to visit his sister. He learns that, Mist was indeed still alive, and indeed had kids. But she didn’t seem to remember him, or practically anyone in that matter. It was heartwarming to know she still spoke her brother name from time to time. 

 

When she died, alongside with her husband, Soren took on the responsibility as her grandchildren’s mentor. 

 

He brought her grandchildren to the little town where Ike died. He raised them, and when each died, they left a child for Soren to care for, or a legacy. 

 

For every descendent, they would fall in love with their eternally beautiful mentor. For every pupil, Soren could never find one who could surpass the Radiant Hero he always spoke so highly of. None would ever grow up to the expectation of the legend. 

 

Now he’s still in the little town two centuries later, with a young boy that the father named Paris, and now with the possession of Ragnell. Soren almost never calls him Paris, for the name was from a man who was a coward in war. He would be called Priam by Soren instead. 

 

“Your pose is weak.”   
  
“I’m doing my best.”   
  
“Try harder than your best.”   
  
The young boy huffs and changes his position. “What about now?”   
  
“Better.” 

 

“I dont get why you never fight me.”   
  
“You’re not strong enough to practice fighting magic, that’s why.”   
  
“Sure I can! I can totally beat you!” Priam is interrupted as he’s thrown back by a strong gust of wind.   
  
“I doubt it. You couldn't even hold your ground when I blew a  _ gust of wind _ at you,” Soren scoffs.   
  
Priam picks himself back up, snarling. He grabs his wooden sword and charges at Soren with no sense of clarity. He’s blown back again.    
  
“Senseless anger will get you nowhere Priam. Think, you foolish boy.” 

It continued as such, years of training and constant nagging. Priam knew he’d never be able to surpass his ancestor, but he wanted to at least earn Soren’s affection. There was no tender motherly love, there was no overbearing love of a father. There was never parental affection. He knew what it was, at least he thinks so. He was taken by Soren when he was five, rather reluctantly he thinks. Priam remembers the scary yelling when he was young, between his mother, father, and Soren. A mysterious young man appearing at their door steps, only to ask for their only child. 

 

He remembers a lot of things about that day. Things, he doesn’t want to think about yet. 

 

Priam shakes off the nostalgia and bad memories. That was before, now he was at battle with an army led by a prince. The very prince of Ylisse. He’s sure he can win this, or else everything Soren taught him was a waste. 

 

He goes head on with the army’s tactician, a young man with white hair that fought at the prince’s side. An interesting combo, not a rare one though. He goes for the tactician first, once he falls, he’ll stick it with the prince. 

 

___

 

Where was he, where is the sword, where are they? Soren frantically flips the house inside out searching for Ragnell and Priam. 

 

Every nook and cranny searched in the house. Every townsfolk had told him the same thing. He wasn’t here, he wasn’t there, not here not here not here not here not here. 

 

Maybe he’s getting senile. 

 

No, he has a stupid boy and crazy priceless sword to find. Empress Sanaki counted on him to be the protector of that sword. It was a final act of kindness, as she said.

 

That foolish man, no, that  _ stupid grown monkey  _ ran away. Soren wanted to scream at the sky, and ask why. Yet, he couldn’t himself to do something like that, he hasn’t sunken down that low yet.

 

Soren saddles up a spare horse from one of the villagers who he graciously thanks, and prepares to head out to search for his missing pupil, and a missing ancient sword.

 

___

 

He looks around the nearby towns, villages, even in caves. There was nothing, no Ragnell, no Priam, nothing. He had nothing but the whispers of the winds to guide him, nothing to help him but hope. All he could do was hope the wind’s could find Priam’s voice, and guide Soren to the boy.  The wind has never forsaken him, and he will never forsake the wind. It has always been his friend, his ally, his guide. 

 

He continues his search, carefully carving out the possible paths Priam may have taken. He talks to the locals about the dangers in the area, perhaps local mercenaries that Soren could use to his disposal. He gets the information he needs.

 

There's been a few new folks around the area, calling themselves a mercenary group. They also spoke of a different group, a militia lead by the prince of the land. Soren is perplexed by the idea, a prince leading a militia? Peculiar, what would happen if their prince were to die? What would happen to a kingdom without a proper heir? 

 

None of his business of course. 

 

Months, months of searching, scouring, and here he was all along. Hanging around outside a tavern with people all around him. Looking… so happy. Soren stares at them from above on a hilltop, with a solemn expression. Was he never this happy when he was with him? 

 

Soren watches as Priam,talk to two men, with such a big smile on his face. He looks worn out, tired, yet he’s shaking hands with one of the men looking so content. 

 

He runs down, down from the hill towards Priam. The wind tell him to wait, to wait, hold on, just a bit longer. He can’t, he doesn’t want to, he wants to hug him, yell at him, scream. Why, why, why did he run for months, leave without any word.

 

“PRIAM!”

 

The young man’s eyes dart up, he opens his mouth to yell back, but its muffled as Soren runs up and embraces him. He has to stand on his toes to even properly hug him. 

 

Soren holds Priam’s face, and looks at him with anger, worry, concern, hatred, a confusing mix of emotions Soren for once doesn’t understand. He can’t understand this, he can’t figure out  _ why _ Priam would do this.

 

“Paris…”

 

“Soren! I, haha, you see-”   
  
“PARIS!” Soren cuts off, his brows crinkle, he grits his teeth and shakes his head. “You worried me for months, I had to leave behind a horse, and sacrifice so much time…just to find you off away in a tavern, laughing at defeat!” 

 

“Soren, wait I can–”   
  
“Explain nothing. Where is Ragnell? I know you took it with you.” Soren shakes him violently.

 

A white haired man intervenes, placing a hand on Soren’s shoulder. 

 

“Sir, I’m sure there's no need for such behavior…”   
  
Soren eyes him suspiciously, and sneers at him, but nonetheless lets go of Priam. He takes in a deep breath, closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells himself. 

 

“Robin, Chrom, I’d like you to meet my… um...” Priam scratches the back of his head. “I don’t actually know but he was the one who raised me and taught me everything I know!” 

 

“He doesn’t look any older than you though!” Robin looks amazed. 

 

“Indeed… it’s almost eerie to imagine such a young man taking care of a child.”

 

Soren narrows his eyes. “Is there something perhaps,  _ wrong _ with my appearance?”

 

Chrom flinches. “N-no, not at all sir.”

 

“Soren, sir, is it true that Priam here is actually related to the Radiant Hero?” Robin is practically vibrating in excitement, eager to hear anything the strategist had to say. 

 

Soren hesitates to reply, and looks at Priam with a tired glance. “Distantly, but… he indeed carries the blood of Ike, or who you call the Radiant Hero.” He says the title in a slow uncertain way. 

 

“It was said the Radiant Hero was never married to anyone, or had a spouse–“

 

“He had a sister.” Soren interrupted, voice dripping in venom. “The technicalities are known of your concern…” he glances at Chrom’s marked shoulder. “Your  _ royal highness _ ” 

 

“I see, I apologize if my question was not appropriate.” Chrom stiffens, looking rather miffed. 

 

Robin nervously laughs, patting Chrom on the back. “It’s alright Chrom, there is no need to look like that. I’m sure it is a touchy subject still. Perhaps we should go inside to continue our–“

 

“No need, I simply came to retrieve Priam and Ragnell, if it’s still even in one piece,” Soren calmly rejects the Ylissian Tactician’s offer. “We shall be out of your hair  _ very _ soon.” 

 

Robin frowns. 

 

“Are you sure? You must be fatigued greatly if you’ve been searching so frantically for Priam. You know, he’s been leading quietly the army, even if only for a few months. His leadership skills are impressive.” 

 

“I’d hope so.”

 

Priam looks mildly hurt by Soren’s snide comment. “I was personally hoping for some kind of praise or, ‘Hey, good job Priam!’ My heart is deeply hurt by this, and so I shall refuse to come home. Soren, I am not a little boy anymore. I don’t have to listen to you, or follow you. I want to forge my own path, like my father, my grandmother, and my family before me.” 

 

His expression is pained as he continues. “I know I look like him, I’ve seen the ways you’ve looked at me. Those sad, lonely looks you’d give me whenever we sparred. I don’t want to be some kind of way for you to just pity yourself, and about how you could have done this or that to save him. I don’t… I don’t want to be that grim reminder of him for you.” Priam grimaces. “Please, Soren, just let me be! Just let yourself move on and do whatever in this world you want!” 

 

Soren has never felt…. such heaviness in his heart, such a heart wrenching feeling. He backs away slowly, looking at the ground with guilty eyes.

 

“You’re right.” Soren looks back up at Priam, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re already all grown up…. you should be going out, exploring the world that I could never show you myself. I already have taught you everything I know. Please, stay safe Paris. Take care of yourself… and maybe, visit me sometimes. Please.” 

 

Priam grins, embracing his mentor and spinning him around, laughing joyfully. “Thank you! Thank you! I swear I won’t let you down old man!” He puts Soren down, and looks at Chrom and Robin excitedly. 

 

“I suppose you shall join the Shepherds Priam?”

 

“Of course, I’m not one to turn my words.” 

 

“Before I leave, I would like the sword you stole back.” Soren holds his hands out. Priam took off the sword’s scabbard from his belt, and placed it on Soren’s hands. “Thank you…what did you do with Ragnell!? What a wreck you turned this sword into!”

 

“It was like that when I found it! I only used it a few times ok!” He puts his arms up in the air. “I swear on it.”

 

Soren bites the inside of his cheeks, no need to cause further drama here. “Fine, I shall take my leave then. Take care of this fumbling idiot for me, tactician.” He trudges back up the hill, disappearing in the horizon. 

 

“What an interesting personality! A curious fellow, I wish he would accompany us.”

 

Priam scoffs. “I doubt it. He doesn’t like being away from my old man’s grave for too long. I doubt he would be able to handle half of your army” 

 

Robin softly laughs. “It’s good to have you here with us Priam.”

 

“As said by Robin, we’re happy to have you with us now.”

 

“I could say the same.” 

 

___

 

“What am I going to do with that boy, Ike?” 

 

Soren sits in front of the grave, holding Ragnell’s scabbard. A patch of yellow daisies swayed in the wind, the wind, it was right. Perhaps, waiting was a better option. Should he have waited? Watch from afar, only to cry and say how unfair it all was? How unfair he had to live so long only to see the children he raised and took care of leave in the sam way. 

 

“It’s kind of ironic they all left because of their wanderlust huh?” He chokes back a sob, oh what's the point. Ike wouldn’t mind his tears. A man can only handle so much. Soren let’s himself cry, after so many decades, and centuries. He lets himself cry till his heart felt like collapsing, and he couldn’t see anything but blurry flowers through the tears. 

 

He places the sword in front of the tombstone. 

 

“Perhaps I should have just died alongside you, but I suppose going against your wishes would make you mad at me. I know you told me to live for myself, but it truly is difficult Ike. It’s hard.” His voice shakes, and wavers as he speaks. “Even when I took care of your sister and her family, I felt alone, more so before I met you under that tree. Seeing them live such happy and joyous lives... I don’t know if I can ever achieve that.” 

 

He starts to feel drained, his eyelids heavy. The branded man lays down by the grave, slumping forward and uses his arms as pillows, laying in the patch of swaying daisies, listening to the sweet lullaby sung by the wind.

 

A young man walks into the hidden flower field, wading through the tall grass, and groups of wild flowers. He stops beside the sleeping dragon, squatting down and petting his hair. His ears perk up as he watches a hawk fly in the air. He smiles to himself as he runs a hand through Soren’s hair.

 

“It took so long to find you Soren. Now, what would Ike say if he saw you like this…” 

**Author's Note:**

> this was a nice mash of two nice soren fics i liked loads. One was about Soren visiting his parents, after like hundreds of years have passed since Ike died. Another is one where Soren took care of Priam, and then uh, the ending I'd rather not have to remember.


End file.
